People
Meet the Thursday poker table
Nobody remembers who first sat down at the far table on a Thursday, but everybody remembers that the table has never been empty since. It is the calmest of the five in the front room, set apart from the wheel by a polished post and a low brass lamp, and its regulars treat it a little as they might treat a favourite armchair. A cushion has appeared on one chair, a pencil sharpener on the shelf behind, and nobody can say who put either there.
Who sits there
Six players, more or less, depending on the harvest. A retired electrician, a primary-school teacher, a pair of sisters who run a cattle property, a young man from the power station and a woman who will not reveal her profession. They arrive at six, take supper together and walk through to the front room as the doors open.
The game they favour
They prefer Omaha, which gives each player four cards and a great deal to think about. The game is slow, talkative and forgiving of mistakes, and the regulars explain their reasoning aloud, sometimes at length. A newcomer is invited to take the seventh chair and is never asked to hurry.
The habit of the sponge
A slice of the evening's sponge is set at each place before the first hand, and nobody deals until it has been eaten. Catherine Nicholson regards this as the highest compliment the kitchen can receive. On evenings when the sponge is late, the cards are late too.
How to join
Come on a Thursday, tell Alana Curtis you would like the poker table at the far end, and she will make the introductions. Arrive hungry, silence your telephone and be prepared to learn why the sisters believe cattle prices and card odds are essentially the same thing.